


Dinner Date

by cffn



Category: GOT7
Genre: Forever, Humour, M/M, based on tv show, jackson cant cook, markson, police markson, smells like smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 13:01:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9236273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cffn/pseuds/cffn
Summary: Mark has idiots as his friends. Such idiots who sign him up for a dating show because they think his life sucks without someone to share it with.He has to choose from five different menus three and have blind dinner dates with them.What could possibly go wrong?Markson version of the reality TV series 'Dinner Date'.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seitsemannen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seitsemannen/gifts).



> Uh, hi.  
> I know I said would write police markson and I did start on it, but this particular one isn't the one I'm working on when I'm not doing stuff for DD.. So you can expect more police markson somewhere in the future.
> 
> I watch too much telly sometimes and Dinner Date was perfect for my crooked mind to change it into markson version. I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> This piece is gifted to the forever talented seitsemannen who provides me more positive things I ever thought it was possible. I heart you you soft piece of fluffiness and cuddles.

Mark was annoyed and he really wanted to punch something because people were interfering with his life and he didn’t like it. Not one bit.

So what if he had been single for most of his life? He certainly didn’t see any problem with it but, as it seemed, others did. Like for instance his mother, his boss and his friends and coworkers. It wasn’t exactly _their_ problem what Mark did in his free time, was it? _They_ didn’t wake up in _his_ bed and live in _his_ apartment, face the day and get through it without a hitch. His life was quite satisfactory without anyone clutching to his hand and demanding attention. He could get a dog if he wanted that sort of affection.

Too bad his so called friends had this time stepped over the line and were now involved a bit too deeply in Mark’s personal life. Or, the lack of it.

Why would they make him suffer like this, seriously? It wasn’t like Mark had pulled one too many pranks on any of them during their friendships. Or maybe he had. But no one should be pissed about being pranked about three to ten times a year, should they? And that was his all time low prank score; he’d been a lot worse when he was still in the academy. Those days still brought a smile to his face.

Mark liked his friends alright but he had never imagined any of them doing something like this. It did seem a bit excessive to actually sign up Mark, without him knowing absolutely _anything_ about it, to a reality TV dating show.

What a bloody headache.

He was awkward to begin with, when he was with someone he didn’t know, but it would be infinitely more so when there were other people actually _filming_ the dinner date, blind date, or whatever it was supposed to be. What wild moment of inspiration had driven his dearly beloved, and soon to be kicked in the arse, friends into this? He swore he would skin the idiots alive later and set _them_ up with something equally shitty.

Mark could have said no when the network contacted him and said they wanted to film an episode with him as the one 'seeking for love'. He had internally groaned at the whole thought and was about to say a firm no, but then he had thought, what the hell, he only lived once. Did he really have something to lose by taking a part in this idiocy?

Only his respectable face as a police officer, for starters. Appearing on a national TV wasn’t what he called a good image for the police forces but who knew, maybe he didn’t have to mention his profession at all.

Mark was now 28 and his current and only relationships were with food, his job and his bed. And he had no intention of giving up on any of them. Was there anything better than food, working hard and sleeping? Not really, though he admitted when he was alone and groggy and in need of something comforting that it might be nice to go to sleep with someone rather than always doing it by himself and have only his pillows to hug. But these moments occurred very rarely and Mark was actually content on being by himself. He didn’t _need_ anyone.

So, when the Dinner Date episode was to be filmed Mark expected nothing more than awkward conversations and food. The latter fact was the main reason he actually agreed on the program. Three free meals, how could he say no, honestly?

When it came to food Mark wasn’t exactly picky but it would be spectacular if he didn’t have to eat something that had burned on the stove. He was a decent cook and could feed himself without ruining his meals and his standards weren’t very high to begin with. Unless it was his mother’s cooking, which he loved most in the world, he was usually happy if he got to eat warm food that filled his stomach. It would only be a bonus if the food was tasty.

 

The whole process began with the TV crew filming Mark alone in an empty cafe. He was presented five different menus and was told to pick three that most appealed to him. Basically he knew _nothing_ about the people who were behind the choices he was given; they could be anything, idiots to lunatics and everything in between. Who knew what horrors there were just waiting for him to get near before they could crash on him. There was always the possibility of the other party flipping out for no good reason, or someone cooking something that would earn Mark a trip to the hospital to get his guts cleaned, or then again this whole sad mess was a brilliant and evil plan of his friends to ruin Mark's life completely.

So to choose blindly? It was like trying to find needle in a haystack.

Basically Mark was expecting wicked witches of the woods or wolves dressed in lambskin, or the end of the world. He hoped his fears would be proven wrong.

Mark was supposed to talk about the menus when the cameras started recording but honestly, he almost always preferred to quietly exam things rather than to talk about them out loud. He flicked through the files silently and earned a resigned sigh from the crew around him.

“Just talk whatever comes to your mind, it doesn’t have to be anything insightful because we can always edit it to look like you were actually into this and not like you just want to run away. Just.. _talk_ something!”

Mark felt a gush of shame reaching his cheeks and he coughed. Right. He was an adult and he could defy criminals with a straight face on daily basis, so a TV camera or two and a bunch of people staring at him weren’t all _that_ bad. He just felt incredibly stiff and reluctant to talk all by himself.

A few long breaths later Mark steeled himself up enough to go through the task he was set to do.

Menu number one was art in itself;

_Poached salmon, wrapped oysters gratinated with saffron and chive mousseline_

_Roast Norwegian salmon fillet, fine herb potato cake, fresh asparagus and chive beurre blanc_

_Hot apple and cinnamon cake with fresh vanilla pod parfait_

“This looks impressive. Sounds like they were trying a bit too hard though. I like food but I don’t like people who take it too seriously. Probably not going to pick this so let’s hope the rest are better.”

Menu number two was a lot better and Mark actually smiled when reading it through.

_Homemade bruschetta, cherry tomatoes, pesto and mozzarella_

_Ginger and orange chicken and lemon rice_

_Warm chocolate fondant with fresh raspberries on top_

“I like this one. It’s simple but good.” Mark said and put the menu aside. “It’s well thought of but not too much. I'd probably enjoy this menu a lot.”

Menu number three was again something Mark wasn’t sure he would like.

“This one sounds a bit too bleak but could be ok..”

_Sweet potato soup_

_French fries and steak_

_Vanilla and rum sponge cake with ice cream_

Menu number four made him brighten up.

“This looks like my kind of thing.”

_Vietnamese spring rolls and chili sauce_

_Spicy Pad Thai noodles_

_Water chestnuts in coconut milk_

“Can hardly ever say no to this kind of food.”

When Mark opened the menu number five he had to blink a couple of times before he was sure what he was reading. It required a bit of imagination to understand this even was a menu and not just a joke.

“This one is.. Quite interesting. It doesn’t exactly say much. What dish can be called as ‘My amazing balls’?” Mark looked at the list again and had to hold himself back from laughing too much. The dessert definitely was hilarious. Who honestly had come up with this nonsense and how had it ended up being presented to him? Someone in the production team had cruel sense of humour.

“I’m going to choose menus two and four at least.” Mark pondered for a while but was unable to hold in his chuckles much longer. “And just for the shits and giggles I want to try ‘Famous homos’ and ‘Spank the monkey’. I’m going to pick menu number five as well.”

 

Mark was a wreck and he knew it. He didn’t work too well with complete strangers and it usually showed on his face a mile ahead. So naturally this wasn’t what he called a fun way spend his evening.

But he had signed up for this and he damn well was going to suffer through the whole goddamn ordeal. _Think about the free food and you’ll be fine._

Later he would choke the poor bastards who were the reason he was in a taxi with a cameraman who tried to make him talk something but gave up eventually because he got no reply. Mark sat there resolutely silent, staring out of the window and onto the dark street. He had now idea where he was heading because the TV crew had just picked him up and told him they would take care of the transport. All he had to do was to _talk_ with his date. Whoever that would be.

Tonight, as it went in order, it was time for the menu number two and Mark had rather high expectations about it. He had deduced the person probably was someone who didn’t just cook because he had to but because they enjoyed it, but not in a way was getting overboard. Mark just wanted to eat, he didn’t really give a damn what kind of person he was going to be talking with.

Yes, he was an ass, and he knew it.

He had dressed up nice though, to fit in the homely vibe he had gotten from the menu; a black turtleneck that hugged his body enough but not too tightly, black skinny jeans and his trusted leather jacket. His hair was smoothed down over his forehead and Mark only hoped he wasn’t overdressed. Not that it mattered much but it _was_ TV and his family would be watching the episode when it would air. Good enough reason to try at least a little bit not to look like a ruffian.

Mark knocked on the door of a neat little house at the end of the lamp lit street somewhere in the suburbs. He had a vague recollection he had been on a mission here once or twice. He noted the immaculate row of flower benches by the walls, noted the simple yet slightly fancy decoration on the door but couldn’t help the sarcastic thought rising up; there could be anything hidden behind the neat wall and no one would be one the wiser until one fateful day the horrors would be revealed to the outside world.

He really should stop thinking about his work when he was soon supposed to be having light small talk..

The door was opened and a set of deep brown eyes, jet black hair and a generous smile greeted Mark the second he looked up and met his companion for the night. The man who stood at the doorway wore an attire that, to Mark’s relief, matched Mark’s choice of clothes; straight, pale sand coloured slacks and a navy blue dress shirt. It suited his slim body quite nicely and Mark was more than pleasantly surprised; he had been dreading the hound of hell to welcome him into its lair.

“Hi. I’m Mark.” Good start, but came out as an out of breath huff which Mark regretted the second the words left his lips.

“I’m Jinyoung. Please, come in.” Jinyoung had a low soft voice and he moved away to give Mark way to step in. The calm welcoming made him less stiff, though his heart was still pounding against his ribcage like it was going mad. He tried his best to act casual but it wasn’t exactly his forte in a situation like this.

Mark’s returning smile probably looked more like he had constipation. Lucky for him Jinyoung missed it.

The cameraman snorted softly behind Mark and Mark gave him a silencing glare. _Relax you asshole, it’s just a dinner._

Jinyoung, as it proved to be true to Mark’s suspicion, was an excellent host. Mark was presented a glass of sparkling wine when he entered the neatly decorated living room and sat down, trying to forget the cameraman following him around all the bloody time.

The room was a simple design; the furniture were of dark gray, the carpet fluffy white and there were a few artsy paintings on the walls. Neatly arranged rows of books covered one wall completely.

“So, uh.. What do you do for a living?” Mark’s interest was barely minimal, but he didn’t want to come out as cold. They sat on the couch next to each other and tried their best to forget the third wheel in the room. Jinyoung gave Mark a small smile, tilting the glass to his plush lips. Jinyoung _was_ incredibly handsome and Mark could easily admit that.

“I’m an actor.”

“Really? Anything I could have seen?” This didn’t actually surprise Mark at all.

“Perhaps, if you are the type to watch TV on afternoons.” Mark shook gently his head; he didn’t watch television almost at all.

“I don’t have time to watch TV much so I probably haven’t seen your show.” Mark stared down at his hands, feeling a bit lost here. He really should have something to say but his brains were evading him tonight. Couldn’t they just get into the food part already?

“How about you, what do you do?” Jinyoung at least seemed to have his wits about and Mark was grateful of it.

“I’m a policeman.” Mark answered. Jinyoung’s eyes moved up and down Mark, examining him more closely. He was quiet a while before saying anything.

“Suits you.” Jinyoung said easily, sipping his wine, one fine eyebrow arched up slightly.

“Yeah?” Mark blinked, almost confusedly. That was the first time someone had said his profession _suited_ him. Even his parents thought he should have done something else, like been a doctor.

“I can’t really imagine you doing some boring office work.” Jinyoung replied, his lips curling up to a smile.

“Thanks.” Mark chugged down half of the wine. He could have asked many questions about what Jinyoung did, other than obviously acted, but Mark was sure his questions would have come out as interrogation more than light conversation so he remained quiet.

While Jinyoung went to prepare the starters Mark sat on the couch and wished to any goddamn star that he would loosen up some. He was going to look like a moron and he wouldn’t hear the end of it when his friends would see it.

Jinyoung was just another human being, there was nothing spectacular about that. One human to another, it was possible just to talk shit and still appear interested even if Mark cared more about the delicious smell wafting from the kitchen than talking and getting to know his date.

“You have an interesting accent. Where are you from?” Jinyoung asked while they were eating the bruschetta Jinyoung had prepared for them which, to Mark's opinion, was fantastic.

“States. I grew up mostly in LA.” Mark actually had to lick his fingers because the bread was so good and the oil on his fingers was too tempting to just wipe it off.

“That explains. It's cute though.” Jinyoung eyed Mark, am amused smirk playing on the corners of his mouth as he watched his guest unconsciously making quite an erotic sight in front of him

“Cute, huh? Well you're quite cute too.” Mark stuffed the rest of the bread in his mouth rather conscious he had let out such a lame compliment out of his mouth just now.

The food was exquisite and Mark thought he couldn't have had any better if he had gone to a Michelin restaurant. Their conversations turned more interesting as the time wore on, and despite only being after being fed, Mark did enjoy his company as well. He might have not talked but he was listening at least.

After finding the last empty spot in his stomach, and filling it with the deliciously decadent and oozing chocolate fondant, it was time to wrap up the evening. Jinyoung was a graceful host and good company, his remarks on the TV industry insightful and appreciative crew wise, which Mark found refreshing. Not everyone was cut out to handle the pressure doing that for a living but apparently Jinyoung had enough brains to keep himself from getting all high and mighty that he appeared on TV every week.

Mark had to admit that as amazing cook and handsome and nice as Jinyoung was, there was no denying the fact that sparks didn't fly between them at all. Which wasn’t exactly a surprise because Mark wasn’t here trying to find the love of his life. He just wanted his stomach to be pleased. But he had to succumb to the rules of the game and at this point he was leaning towards picking on Jinyoung for the second date because at least they could get along somewhat nicely.

Two more to go and Mark was only expecting to find more excuses to go to the gym a few more times after this filming was done for good.

 

The second date was already causing Mark some headache and he was only trying to pick out what to wear. He could go over the top easily but it was also way too easy to be under dressed and he really didn’t want to look like a slob on TV. What would his mother say for fucks sake. She would maul him if he ended up looking like he woke up in dumpster. Great motivation to look decent.

In the end Mark decided on a loose white blouse and torn light blue jeans. It wasn’t too informal, right? Mark groaned at his image in the mirror and rolled his eyes. He didn’t usually care much what he wore as long as he was comfortable in the clothes, but somehow knowing he would be scrutinized by a few hundred thousand people, when the episode would air, was making him second guess his choices.

Not bothering to change his attire to something else Mark just huffed by himself and left to meet with the camera guy waiting by the taxi that would take Mark to his next dinner date.

Time to eat.

“Oh my god you’re here! I’m Kumpimook but call me Bambam, everyone does.” The young man who opened the door to his apartment was not what Mark had expected but he was definitely a looker; ash colored short hair styled perfectly, enough makeup to perfect the sweet heart shaped face and, Mark's officer eye noted quickly, Bambam was wearing ice blue contacts. Mark was swept inside with him barely managing to say his name.

The apartment was brightly colored and looked like someone had exploded the oriental home decoration shop in there; the amount of bright pinks, blues, greens and yellows was almost stunning. Candles, a few golden Buddha statues and for some odd reason a spinning disco ball in the corner. The plastic kind, not the one made of mirror pieces.

“I made strawberry margaritas!” Bambam came almost skipping from his little kitchenette, holding the two way too full martini glasses in his hands, almost tripping on his carpet but managed to keep his balance in the end and Mark let out a relieved sigh.

He was sure he would have a heart attack or something tonight. Or maybe had to call the fire department if the curtains would accidentally set on fire.

“So, what do you do?” Mark asked, a bit wiser from yesterday, and tried to smile over his drink at Bambam.

“I’m a model. It’s my passion for now. I think I should enroll to a designer school or move to states because they have so much going on there.” He practically beamed at Mark. Mark wasn’t surprised the kid was a model; with those legs and face you almost _had to_ be. Indeed the legs looked nice and long and the leather pants Bambam had chosen to wear tonight definitely worked in his favour.

Too bad he wasn’t much of cooker.

The spring rolls Bambam had made for starters were nice enough but lacked some ingredient Mark’s couldn’t for the life of him remember.

The rice noodles were overcooked when Bambam served the bowl of Pad Thai for Mark. He had certainly been generous with the chili because Mark had to admit even his eyes got a bit watery at some point during the meal and he could eat whole chilies and not bat an eye.

“You're a copper, oh my.” Bambam slapped a hand over his mouth when Mark’s profession came out. “Maybe I should have hidden my weed better…”

“Your.. what?” Mark raised both his brows up his chopsticks halting in mid air.

“Oops!” Bambam burst out laughing a delighted cackle and for a brief moment Mark thought he should take the words seriously. “I'm just joking, just joking! You should have seen your face though.” The evil giggles that followed Bambam’s grin were enough reason for Mark to first roll his eyes and shake his head.

Bambam was an interesting mixture of a serious young adult and a total misbehaving youth. Mark wasn't sure did he like or dislike Bambam. He did talk a lot about his home and clothes and his slight lisp when pronouncing certain words was rather cute once you stopped getting annoyed about it.

Mark felt a little less ignorant compared to what it had been yesterday but the biggest difference with Jinyoung and Bambam was the fact that Bambam felt more like a kid brother he wanted to slap in the head and not someone he could ever see as anything else.

Then the dessert came..

It _should_ have looked appetising but what it ended up reminding Mark about was _something_ liquidy really sweet tasting goo with bright red tapioca bites floating around in it. Not that it was bad but it did look revolting. To cover up the mishap Bambam dug up ice cream from the freezer and they managed to laugh the incident off as a joke.

Mark decided he kind of liked the kid though he his cooking left a lot to be work with. Bambam was cute and annoying at the same time. He was witty and funny and Mark kind of enjoyed joking around with him, though at times their age difference was almost a gaping chasm and not just a few years.

When the taxi door closed after Mark later, he was only glad to go home.

 

The third and final menu was the one Mark had been quite interested to go through. He had absolutely _no_ idea what was waiting for him.

Being the intelligent sort of person Mark had figured the ‘amazing balls’ might point towards a meat dish and by ‘spanking the monkey’ someone was trying to tell the dessert would include banana in some form. What the ‘famous homos’ would be, Mark had no idea, and he was definitely very interested to see. His otherwise brilliant brains failed to help him figuring that out.

Whatever there was to come the person behind it all had to at least very interesting personality if nothing else. Who else would come up with such names for his dishes?

Not sure what he was supposed to wear for the night Mark chose something relatively safe; his black skinny jeans, an oversized army green hoodie with decorative torn parts at the hem and sleeves, and a black t-shirt under. He couldn’t get minus points for that.

Ringing the doorbell brought out two problems: one, no one came to the door and two, Mark heard the fire alarm going off and someone cursing pretty loudly over the high beeping sound. Mark was already fishing out his phone and speed dialing the fire brigade but before he could do push that call button the door opened. Mark realized the alarm had been silenced and his date was now standing at the doorway and looking at Mark with wide eyes.

Mark took in the the soft brown of the eyes, the short dark brown hair, carelessly looking like the man had just run against the wind, the straight jaw and the brightest smile Mark had ever encountered in his life. He took in the white shirt and muscular arms, the way the shirt clung onto the upper body without revealing too much what was under. He noted the black apron wrapped around the narrow waist.

Had he ever in his wildest dreams, which he denied he had, thought he would encounter someone who looked like the perfect specimen of the entire human race on a dating show? To be honest? Like, really _really_ honest? Never.

“Hey. Hi, oh wow you’re here. Sorry, I hope I haven't scared the hell out of you already. Come in. I’m Jackson.”

“Mark.” Mark couldn't help the smile reaching his lips. He was already forgetting he was here because of food and not because he felt some immediate physical attraction to his date. _Food, you’re here because of the food. Not because he looks like he could be wild and untamable and rock your world._

“I’m really sorry about the mess, I’m not usually like this, I swear I can cook.” Jackson’s smile was apologetic but sweet, his eyes two dark pools filled with laughter.

“We’ll see. You’re not hurt, are you?” Mark heard the camera guy actually stifling a laughter behind him. _I’m not flirting with him, shut the hell up!_

“What? No! I’m fine.” Jackson’s smile was nearly faltering and he ran his hands through his hair, probably not even thinking about it, pushing the brown hair off his forehead and temporarily exposing more of his face.

“But the alarm went on?” Mark quirked his brows up, the question rather useless one as there definitely was a burning smell lingering inside the apartment. The fact that something had already burned didn’t promise anything good but for a reason Mark couldn’t admit to himself he found himself not caring about the food at the moment. He might have been too busy appreciating Jackson.

“Alarm? Oh, that yes, I.. Oh shi-” Jackson turned around, obviously remembering that something required his attention, and dashed through his living room towards his kitchen. Mark followed the noise, smiling vaguely by himself.

Whatever he had been expecting this was not it. He had not expected to meet a handsome stranger with a face that should be carved on stone and a smile that could eradicate all the darkness from the darkest of nights. Jackson could present charcoals on a plastic plate for Mark and he wouldn’t mind it though it most definitely should have made him turn on his heels right now and not go trailing after Jackson and feel like he had been punched in the stomach.

Jackson returned from the kitchen with even more smudges on his face and Mark bit down on his cheeks to prevent himself from laughing. It was hard because Jackson looked like his world was crashing down on him.

“Bad?” Mark raised his brows, sitting down on the couch and crossing his legs. Maybe they should cheat big time and go out to get some _un_ ruined food and concentrate on something else, like getting to know each other and kick the camera man out and _can we please stop with these thoughts, thanks._

“Well…” Jackson looked sheepish but smiled brightly anyway, his expression settling on being light and curious more than the earlier gloomy one. “It’s good. It’s all good. I put my best effort into it anyway.” He sat down and Mark really wanted to clean Jackson’s face with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“I brought red wine.” Mark said, handing Jackson the dark green bottle he had been holding in his hands. “I figured you were cooking something with red meat so..” He shrugged.

“Wine, that’s cool thanks.” Jackson then frowned like he was remembering something, checking his to-do-list inside his head one item at a time until.. “Yep, definitely good because I forgot to get it myself.” The black spots on Jackson’s face were distracting Mark’s concentration so much he couldn’t stop himself from leaning closer, ignoring Jackson’s blabbering.

“You have dirt on your face.” Mark bit down on his lip, holding back his laughter as Jackson went from pale to pink in about two seconds.

“Oh my _god_.. I have made such an impression on you, haven’t I?” The look of devastation flashed across the handsome face.

Mark just laughed, more freely than he had laughed at all this week. It was like the cameraman wasn’t even there, it was so _easy_ to be around Jackson and why the hell wasn’t he more bothered about his flirty attitude?

“I’ll get it for you.” Mark flashed a wide smile at Jackson, reaching out and wiped away the soot carefully from the cheeks and the forehead. Jackson stared at Mark, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open, lips the color of pink and looking tempting as fuck.

“Uhh.. Thanks.” Jackson mumbled, lowering his gaze to the bottle he held in a tight grasp.

“No problem. Glasses, perhaps?” Mark felt a tingling feeling inside his chest, spreading further and further until he was soft as pudding. This was going to hell, wasn’t it? He hadn’t been looking for someone to hook up with, or anything else, and yet here he was feeling like a giddy schoolboy, ogling his new and interesting friend.

With wine finally in their hands, and Jackson having removed his apron and revealing a pair of fabulous legs under the navy blue jeans, they sat on the couch and tried not to stare at each other too much.

“What do you do for a living? Bet it’s something awesome because you’re like seriously handsome and I can’t really understand why you’re on a dating show..” Jackson certainly liked to talk a lot, but perhaps he was just nervous because the situation wasn’t normal for a first date.

“I’m a policeman, and thank you. It takes pretty much all my time so I’m most likely doomed to be alone until i retire.” Mark licked his lips quickly, observing the brown eyes next to him widening with some revelation Jackson was having.

“No way!”

“What?”

“I’m a cop too!” _Oh_.. Jackson’s face was alight with laughter and he laughed that almost hysterical high laugh that reminded Mark of a hyenas bark. He liked it more than he should have, and fuck this he was way too interested already.

“Cool. I wonder if we have seen each other by accident.” Thought Mark was pretty sure he would have remembered seeing someone like Jackson and in an uniform too. The mere thought of Jackson dressed up full combat suit was making his mouth water dangerously.

“That would be amazing, though I think I would remember if I had seen you before.” Jackson grinned, lifting his glass up. “A pair of lonely coppers then. Let’s make a toast to that!”

 

“Why did you write such a menu by the way?” Mark asked, eyeing somewhat apprehensively the greenish blob of _something_ and the nearly burnt pieces of self made.. uh, bread. It was supposed to be the starter with a really dubious name and Mark couldn’t for the life of him bring himself to even guess what the _Famous homos_ in the bowl was made of.

“Oh that.” Jackson smirked, dipping a piece of bread into the _thing_. “That was just a laugh. I got tricked into a bet and lost. I had to write down the most incredible shit I could manage and then submit it. I really thought it would never get picked because it’s so lame that even I can admit that.”

“Yet, here I am.” Mark grinned at Jackson. _Oh my god STOP that._

“You certainly are.” Was that tone really meant to be as low and sultry as it did sound in Mark’s ears or was he just imagining things? He couldn’t possibly be this desperate. Not that Jackson was exactly hiding his knowing smirks either but that just made things even worse for Mark.

“So.. What _is_ this?”

“Hummus.” Jackson shrugged, plopping the piece of food into his mouth. Mark stared at him a while quietly and then shook his head. Unbelievable. Too bad it made him laugh.

“Of course.” He cackled, feeling brave enough to try the suspicious substance himself now that he knew it didn’t at least contain goblin hands or eyeballs.

It was, to put it _very_ nicely, interesting. Jackson clearly had used more than two or three garlic cloves in the hummus and it was almost making Mark gag. Adding to the overpowering taste of garlic trying to knock him out of his wits, the taste of charred and burnt bread wasn’t exactly what Mark would call a delicacy he wanted to eat ever again.

Jackson coughed in the midst of chewing his bit and his eyes went from wide to crescents in a seconds.

“Okay that’s horrible. Please don’t eat that. Wow..”

“It.. could be better.” Mark managed to choke, wanting to get the ‘food’ as far away from him as possible.

“I’m sure I followed the recipe!” Jackson groaned, grimacing and leaning back on his chair.

“How much garlic did you put in there?” Mark coughed, unable to finish to his bread. The mere sight of it made his stomach twist unpleasantly. He should make a side trip to the nearby pharmacy on his way home.

“Three.” Jackson replied absent-mindedly, frowning and crossing his arms before him. The gesture brought out the tight biceps quite nicely and Mark could only stare in wonder and for a few fleeting seconds forgot he had just tasted something absolutely horrible.

“Cloves?”

“What, cloves? No. Three whole garlics.” Jackson blinked at Mark, tilting his head to the side and totally missing the point.

“Oh my god..” Mark groaned, unable to stop himself from laughing so hard he doubled up.

 

Jackson’s ‘amazing balls’ turned out to be spaghetti with meatballs and, Mark had to admit, it wasn’t as bad as the starter had been. It was edible, though he was sure there was something really off with the taste though he couldn’t put his finger on what exactly it was that was making his tastebuds so displeased.

The spaghetti was overcooked but that was a minor problem compared to what the hummus had been. Lucky for Mark he was more interested in listening to Jackson talking than focusing on his dinner and that certainly helped a lot. There was no way he was going to empty his plate but the company, and the wine, were making him laugh more than he might have normally done on a first date with anyone.

The thought that he would probably die of shame when seeing his behaviour on TV a lot later did cross Mark’s mind but he couldn’t bring himself to stop either.

Jackson claimed his idea for making spaghetti and meatballs came from Disney’s Lady and the Tramp and he was halfway on his way finding it on internet so they could recreate the eating scene together.

Too bad they didn’t get that far because Mark almost choked on a piece of meat and Jackson had to stop everything else and hit Mark on his back. It was lucky Jackson didn’t have to resort on using Heimlich maneuver because that would have been the epitome of most screwed up first date in the history of first dates.

The dessert however was incredibly fun. Mark went to save Jackson in the kitchen when the poor guy almost managed to dissect a finger when turning the blender on accidentally too soon. Mark ended up helping Jackson to make two wonderfully alcoholic and dirty milkshakes with rocky road ice cream, fresh bananas and banana liqueur. It was naughty and indecent and Mark admitted he did perhaps touch Jackson’s shoulder, or his arm, more often in the cramped little kitchen than it was needed. But he was tipsy from mainly drinking wine and not eating much so maybe it was ok to stare at bit longer at Jackson bustling around and trying to find each ingredient and looking so adorable and helpless at the same time it was hard to decide which was better.

Eating the milkshake was highly entertaining and the sugar rush it caused, combined with more alcohol, certainly made their goodbye kisses on the cheek linger a lot longer than they might have under normal circumstances.

Mark contemplated on the evening in the taxi, after wishing Jackson a good night and hoping silently and privately he wasn’t leaving Jackson standing there alone and to apologize about the mess he had made. It had been a disaster food wise and if Mark would have had to choose based on that alone Jackson would have been the last one out of the three. But, much to Mark’s pleasure the reason why he would choose anything was solely based on his personal interest and his interests were a bit fucked at the moment.

At least their part in Mark’s episode would be a humorous one.

So, it was time to pick a winner.

When Mark had started this whole thing he had been sure he would just easily go through three different dates with different people, eat and that would be it. Right now he wasn’t so sure it had been all about food after all because he was considering the three guys based on other things than their cooking skills.

Mark had liked Jinyoung but only as a friend perhaps. He seemed like a smart guy, good looking and sharp tongued, ready to talk serious and yet ready let loose.

Then there was Bambam.

Oh, sweet baby Bambam.

He was like a little brother. He could easily coddle the young man and spoil him rotten; he was so adorable even though he was tall and lanky and probably could be as serious as anyone else. Though his cooking skills were not on Jinyoung’s level Bambam had produced something edible at least.

And finally there was Jackson.

Jackson..

Mark felt his stomach churning when he thought about Jackson. He had not been ready for the impact Jackson had made on him. With his adorable behaviour, his ever changing facial expressions and his abysmal cooking skills he had only managed make Mark laugh so hard his cheeks hurt. Seriously thinking it wasn’t rational to feel so attracted to someone just based on one night but it could happen, right? And he hadn’t just imagined the subtle, or not so subtle, flirting Jackson had been doing with him, had he?

Rationally thinking he should pick Jinyoung because he was polite, handsome, had good sense of humour and he could cook. Mark knew his friends and family would probably worship the ground Jinyoung walked if he would choose to take him out and then end up dating him after the show was over.

This show, this whole circus of cooking and meeting random people, it wasn’t all that serious to begin with, merely just a laugh for them all because someone had thought it was fun to end up trying your luck on a dating show. So Mark really could just pick anyone and be done with this all and continue his workaholic life as he had until this Monday.

But who said Mark was being rational.

The choice was, in the end, an easy one.

 

Mark dressed up the next day in a black dress shirt, tight black jeans and a dark gray overcoat that definitely complimented his narrow figure. He combed his hair partly away from his forehead and added a layer of lipstick on his lips, grabbed the bucket of red roses with him and headed into the taxi waiting for him.

He had thought about the situation quite carefully, had measured the alternatives and possible scenarios with each of the three candidates. He had tried to be thorough and imagine what _could_ happen between each of them and finally, when he was done with sorting his thoughts, Mark was sure he had no guarantees his choice would bring longtime happiness, or even any, in his life but he was willing to see if a second date would still stir up the same feelings in him as it had on the first time. As much as it had taken him by surprise and caused him to doubt his fickle emotions, Mark was giving in and allowing himself to be swept away if the same thing would happen again.

 

When Jinyoung opened his door the next day he found a tray with a silver cover on his doorstep, a single rose in a vase waiting for him. He merely shrugged and carried the tray inside.

“He was more the friendzone type anyway. I wouldn’t mind spending time with him as a friend.”

Bambam opened his door and looked only mildly surprised.

“Mark was super handsome, but not really my type. It was fun, but still a no-go. Sorry Mark. Good luck with the one you did pick!”

Jackson opened his door dressed as nice as he could have, within the limits of his wardrobe; black jeans and army green blouse because he was at the moment kind of in love with it, and he found a dazzlingly smiling Mark standing on his doorstep.

“Can I take you out?” A dozen red roses were handed to him and Jackson took the flowers without really thinking or realizing what was happening. Their date had been such a disaster, not that he _couldn't_ cook it had just been a very unfortunate night overall, and he had really all in honesty had thought he was the last person Mark would want to meet again. Jackson had been prepared to deal with refusal though he had been sure there had been more than sparks flying between them.

So it really took a while for Jackson to answer and Mark was already showing signs of backing up and leaving. Jackson blinked and snapped out of his reverie, taking in the real world with a huge gasp of air and an involuntary step towards Mark.

“Oh my GOD!” Jackson almost squealed, absolutely flabbergasted. “I mean yes? YES! Of course! But I thought you hated the whole evening?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I had.” The smile Mark had was a little bit secretive, like he was harboring something under his quiet demeanor that was only waiting for Jackson to go and dig it out.

 

The taxi was spacious enough for at least three large people to sit in the back but Mark found it incredibly hard not to sit right next to Jackson and stare at him, instead of the camera filming them and their last moment, thankfully. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Jackson’s face; the way he gestured with his whole body while talking, and how his mouth moved when he talked, how he laughed and pouted, the emotions flashing over his face almost in double speed sometimes. It was all so fascinating it was like watching a really incredible movie being played in high definition right in front of your eyes.

“I thought I might have poisoned you..” Jackson confessed while they were waiting for their dinner at the restaurant.

“I’m fine. I can deal with appalling cooking every now and then.” Mark laughed, smirking incredulously at the disapproval and regret fighting for dominance over Jackson’s face. “Just don’t cook for me again.”

“You mean you’re not going to go out with me again?” Jackson looked surprised. “Just how bad were the other guys if you chose me then?” Jackson apparently had trouble getting over the fact he had managed to steal the second date from the other two. Based on his ability to murder a meal it was kind of amazing he was sitting there in front of Mark, looking all dashing and gorgeous. But Mark had made up his mind during the sleepy hours he had been up thinking last night.

“They cooked well enough. But I..” Mark bit down on his lip and lowered his chin, glancing up through his lashes at Jackson who seemed to freeze. “I ended up picking you. And by not cooking for me I meant you let _me_ do the cooking next time.”

“Oh. Right. Uh. Ok. I can do that.” The smile Jackson directed at him was perfect. Simply and absolutely perfect and Mark knew he had made the right choice in the end.

 

_One month later_

Jinyoung is still single, though he has his eyes on someone.

Bambam is in a relationship with his dance instructor.

Mark and Jackson are dating.

 

_Here is what happened after the second date and when the cameras were turned off and Mark and Jackson were left alone._

Jackson looked fully satisfied after finishing his meal, smiling contently and patting his stomach with both hands, rubbing it with exaggerated gestures that only made him look more like he was seven and not twentyseven. Mark had his elbows propped on the table, a glass of wine in his hand and he simply appreciated everything in life right now. He had no idea where this all was going but he had been enjoying the dinner even more with Jackson telling him vivid stories from his past, laughing all the while that high infectious laughter that made Mark beam at Jackson like the fucking sun was shining from every orifice on his body.

Basically, he was screwed. Or, he wanted to be screwed. Both were good options.

The conversation was moving fluently from one topic to another and Mark couldn’t help but to pick up the hidden meanings between the lines, couldn’t help to notice how seductive Jackson looked sometimes while pretending he was examining the tablecloth and biting his lower lip gently. It certainly didn’t make Mark turn his eyes away from Jackson, oh no. Quite the opposite.

He had stopped resisting the pull about the second Jackson opened his door.

“Do you have plans for the night?” Mark asked softly, his eyes fixed on the relaxed curve of Jackson’s lips after a small pause in the conversation. Jackson was leaning back on his chair and breathing slowly in and out, his chest rising and falling and Mark thought, rather helplessly, that it would be nice to lay his head there and sleep.

“I have a day shift tomorrow so I didn't really plan anything else for today.” Jackson opened his eyes, a slow smile lighting up his face. “Well, nothing but this of course and that was long shot anyway.”

“Would you..” Mark couldn't recall any other time in his life when he had been about to say the words he was going to spill from his mouth now. “..like to come over for a drink?”

Jackson looked at Mark.

Mark looked at Jackson.

It was like time was standing still as they examined each other, calculating the possibilities where this could lead them into. They both knew what that particular little question hid under the camouflage of innocent words.

It was the one universal question that in almost all cases lead to..

“Sure. That sounds good.” Jackson said, biting down on his lip and eyeing Mark curiously. Perhaps he hadn't expected this to come up tonight. Or at all.

To be honest, neither had Mark.

The taxi drive to Mark's apartment was a quiet one. There was tension between them that had been there before but had been hidden behind pretty words and glances. Now it was nearly visible; the way either of them would get caught staring or how calculated were the ‘accidental’ brushes of hands over a thigh or a shoulder.

Mark really couldn’t remember ever doing this before; asking someone to come over for this reason alone.

“We’re here.” Mark muttered, his heart beating faster than it normally did. He paid the driver and climbed out of the car, breathing in the cool night air almost desperately, like it could help cooling down his flustered body that was getting hotter and hotter with Jackson there near him. This didn’t really add up to his normal behaviour but they were both adults and could indulge themselves with whatever they felt like.

Mark clicked the door open and let Jackson in, but escaped as soon as possible into his kitchen to fetch something to drink and to occupy his hands with something other than what they desired to hold.

“Nice place you got here.”

“It’s adequate.” Mark handed Jackson a glass of scotch. He fell silent after that, not sure what to say. They had been talking so much today already Mark felt like he had known Jackson a lot longer than the two times they had seen. He had been so reluctant to believe he could actually feel something like this, this _lust_ and _want_ so fast, but there he was, burning with those emotions.

“Nicer than my place..” Jackson sipped the amber liquid absent-mindedly. His cheeks were the colour of faintest pink and his eyes full of yet unanswered questions. He averted his eyes away from Mark, turning instead to look outside the window.

Mark didn’t say anything, he was too busy watching Jackson, taking in everything there was to watch. Jackson had a powerful figure but not too much, he was muscular but not in that sick way guys sometimes were when their whole life was nothing more than about working out their already enormous muscles. Jackson’s legs were fantastic, his ass was superb, his waistline a siren calling your name and his back and shoulders simply enthralling. Mark felt the urge to press his face between Jackson’s shoulder blades and close his eyes and feel how he was alive and happy to be with someone for the first time since.. He couldn’t even remember when the last time had been.

Mark chugged down the whole content of his glass in one, coughed as the burning liquid ran down his throat and then placed the empty glass on a table near him.

Jackson jolted when Mark moved right behind him and wrapped his arms around Jackson loosely enough to remain on the not-yet-too-needy side. He breathed against Jackson’s neck, lips a mere breath away from touching the skin. Mark could see the goosebumps rising to decorate Jackson’s neck and smiled victoriously. He could feel the body heat even through his clothes, could feel how Jackson leaned against him and could inhale the deep warm scent that was making his thoughts fuzzy.

Not wanting to, or more like not being able to wait longer, Mark kissed the exposed neck with dry lips. Jackson seemed to shiver, but he tilted his head to the side, revealing more skin, silently allowing the touch to continue.

If that wasn’t reason enough to do more Mark didn’t know what was and he was more than glad to use this opportunity as it was so willingly presented to him.

The soft pecks turned to sloppy kisses and finally when Mark dared to sink his teeth in Jackson seemed to lose his composure for good.

He turned around to face Mark, his eyes wide and dark and his breathing shallow. Mark licked his lips deliberately lowly, biting his bottom lip, his gaze not wavering. He was definitely thirsty for more and Jackson was the only remedy to quench his thirst. How fast your inhibitions could fly away and the desire would take over the control and guide you towards uncharted waters.

Jackson cradled Mark’s face between his palms carefully, probably unsure how roughly he could touch. Mark couldn’t tear his eyes away from the fullness of Jackson’s lips; they were lingering so close but still so annoyingly far it seriously was starting to bug him. Lucky for him Jackson seemed to have similar thoughts and before Mark could count to two, Jackson’s mouth was against his and nothing else really mattered after that.

Jackson’s lips were just as soft as they looked like. He was tentative and careful, and it was sweet, it really was, but not even nearly enough.

“What are you waiting for? Not going to give in to your desires?” Mark muttered between the questioning movement of their joined lips.

“And here I thought I was being a gentleman..” Jackson grinned against Mark’s mouth.

“I think we can skip that.” The words got lost as if ignited Jackson let go of Mark's head and instead took a firm hold of his hips.

“With pleasure.” Those were the last words Mark heard before Jackson initiated a much, much deeper kiss that made Mark’s stomach lurch deliciously low.

Jackson’s lips moved like in a trance, moving in and out of reach with soft wet sounds, both of them tilting heads from side to side, figuring out the best angle with half closed eyes. It was sloppy and electrifying at the same time without being too innocent. Mark was quite enjoying the hands gripping his hips and himself running his hands up and down Jackson’s shirt, feeling the strong back under his fingers, but he wanted to dive deeper into the abyss that was Jackson; alluring, interesting and inviting, luring Mark closer the more their lips parted and tongues darted out to brush together.

“Is this a bad idea?” Jackson asked and Mark had to gather his thoughts before he could answer; he was being pushed back to sit on the couch and Jackson was leaning over him, one hand supporting his weight against the back of the couch, one resting on Mark’s thigh.

“Yes and no. Technically it’s already the second date so we’re not being completely reckless.” Mark chuckled, capturing Jackson bottom lip between his teeth and tugging it.

“I can deal with that.” The smirk spreading over Jackson’s face was almost thrilling to watch; he looked so captivating like that, looming over Mark and watching him with dark eyes.

Mark thought he should be a little more responsible and not fuck around with someone he barely knew but his body was responding eagerly to the touches and it was getting harder to remain still when all you could think was the need throbbing inside your veins.

Jackson seemed to be on the same page and he climbed over Mark’s thighs, straddling him and resuming the kisses that took the course down the passionate road the moment Jackson had settled down.

It was impossible to remain squeezing the fabrics with tight fists any longer and Mark almost let out a high giggle when Jackson’s fingers began to unbutton Mark’s shirt, revealing the tank top under it. He helped Jackson to remove the shirt and it flew on the floor without a second thought from either of them.

“Should I eat you up?” Mark grinned in between the feverish kissing, leaning away enough to look at Jackson.

“I hope you're not talking about cannibalism.” Jackson mused, smiling. “Though you are quite the carnivore with those teeth of yours.” Mark snapped his teeth together playfully, leaning back to rest his head against the back of the couch.

“You’re so lame. Shut up.” Mark snorted, faking an exasperated expression.

“Going to shut me up with force?” Jackson wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“You have the right to remain silent until you are rendered completely used..” Mark smirked, leaning forward to graze his teeth over Jackson’s neck and Jackson quite obediently exposed more. “Is that what you had in mind?”

“Something like that.”

“Maybe later. Come here.” Mark growled low, attacking Jackson’s mouth this time. Jackson didn’t seem to mind much demanding hands tugging him closer, just chuckled and responded with equal desire, melting against Mark.

It was what you could call ‘venting frustration’, after years of being without anyone to share the passion with, and now those pent up feelings kind of overflowed for both of them. Mark’s hands were pushing Jackson’s shirt up, yanking the belt buckle open and unbuttoning his jeans, all this with haste and while Jackson was doing something similar to Mark. The warm hands were on Mark’s waist, dipping under the waistband of his pants, moving over the tightly strung fabric, palming the crotch with hungry moves.

Jackson’s skin was so warm under his shirt, his back so tight and perfect under Mark’s exploring fingers it was amazing the piece of clothing didn’t fly off at all during their hasty and very greedy moments of seeking release. It was ecstatic and colored with red hues from the moment the needy hands wiggled their way under the straining pants and encountered nearly burning heat, wrapping around it clumsily.

Their touches were jerky and exploring, trying to find a matching tempo to work with, their breaths mingling hot, creating some indecent noises in the process. Mark was climbing the stairway to heaven with each touch but the moves were so restricted it made him lose his patience.

“Pants off. Now.” He growled, pushing Jackson off of him.

“Impatient, are we?” Jackson scrambled to his feet and running his both hands through his hair, pushing it back with that gesture that Mark had seen him do a dozen times tonight.

“You’re one to talk.”

Jackson just smirked, not wasting much time on more bantering and dropped his jeans down with his boxer briefs, kicking only one leg free of the clothes before climbing back over Mark who had done basically the same but his pants were still binding his ankles together. But it was enough and they both let out a pleased sigh when their hips came near and helpful hands assisted the game to continue without disturbance this time.

It was like they were still sixteen, their hormones making the crazy with lust and turning them reckless, emotions running high. But it was insanely hot, so hot it was almost scorching holes on the cushions, the couch creaking under their desperate moves in search of the higher planes, reaching out to find ecstasy and bliss together.

Jackson’s hips were moving in waves, the friction just enough to elicit gruff moans from both of them and Mark bucked up, wanting to melt their bodies together forever if possible. It was so good, so rapturous it almost emptied his head completely during the hasty minutes they were playing with their steamy deeds.

The pleasure built up, it coiled like a snake down and finally erupted out with a pulsating ejaculation of sticky grayish liquid, staining Mark’s stomach and their hands, rolling down his flexing abdomen back towards his groin. Jackson joined the rapture in mere moments later, arching his back and his chin lolling down to his chest, his mouth open and eyes shut tightly, body rocking as the pleasure messed up his nerve system for a few white hot seconds.

They were a mess, sitting there in a throbbing jumble with hair sticking up, clothes ruined and wrinkled, but they laughed softly and out of breath when the exhaustion took over the aftermath shuddering their bodies.

“I’m hungry.” Jackson nuzzled his face to Mark’s shoulder and nipped the tank top with his teeth. Mark was too sluggish to have energy to stop Jackson from munching on his clothes.

“Mmhm?” The low sound came out lazily, his lips throbbing after all that kissing and biting.

“You said I shouldn’t cook for you so it is kind of your turn..” Jackson was definitely playing his cuteness against Mark here. Mark wondered silently did Jackson realize how weak already he was for it. Probably not and it might be better to keep it hidden a little while longer or else Jackson would turn impossible to handle.

“Do I have to?” Mark drawled out, though he knew he would give in soon. He _really_ couldn’t say no to a man who was pressing tiny kisses all over his shoulder and smelling like a promise of sweaty sex.

“I’ll suck you off later if you do?” Jackson giggled, turning his head enough to place a kiss on Mark’s neck this time.

“Hmm..” Mark hummed, as if he was pondering really hard. “Tempting, tempting.”

“Oh come on, it’s the best deal you can have tonight!” Jackson actually slapped Mark’s bare thigh, the sound echoing in the quiet room loudly.

“Ok, ok. I give in! Stop eating my neck or I can’t show my face at work tomorrow.” Mark laughed heartily, his head filled with slow happy thoughts and his heart beating contently.

“But you taste so good..” Jackson growled playfully, earning a hard swatting over his bare ass from Mark.

“I’ll make you something, seriously don’t eat me.” Mark grinned widely, his insides squirming pleasantly when he thought about the night they still has ahead of them. “Yet.”

Jackson’s bright smile was the best gift Mark could ever get for himself.

This might not be eternal sunshine and happiness but it was real right now and it felt good. Jackson was so warm and comfortable against him and Mark thought he could have not found anything better to bring a little colour into his life.

This is what it felt like to be alive and pleased with someone in your arms, wasn’t it?

Definitely.

**Author's Note:**

> Liked it? Hated it? Don't have anything sensible to say?  
> Leave a comment anyway! I like them so much and and.. [incoherent spluttering]. Yeah.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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